


The One With The Cat

by ObsidiansChild



Series: The Reformation of Eliot Waugh [7]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidiansChild/pseuds/ObsidiansChild
Summary: Quentin brings home a surprise.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Series: The Reformation of Eliot Waugh [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719526
Comments: 6
Kudos: 92





	The One With The Cat

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is possibly the shortest chapter/installment of the series. Sorry about that. I just wanted a bit of humor/fluff after the angst of the last installment. 
> 
> It does reference therapy, specifically EMDR. I could really only use my own experience with it, but I'm sure everyone's is very different. 
> 
> Also, this takes place a couple of months after Thanksgiving.

_ Eliot _

Eliot hurried to reach his apartment building that evening after he left the exit to the subway station. He hated Mondays as a rule; Mondays meant leaving work to visit his therapist in Manhattan, and that meant no quick portal home. He always felt grimy after using the subway. He wanted dinner, a shower, and his boyfriend, in that exact order.

Today had been worse than usual. Therapy had  _ sucked.  _ Eliot had fought since the beginning against broaching the subject of his father with Janine during their sessions, refusing to admit his fucked up childhood was at least somewhat to blame for his current issues. Not that he wasn’t fully aware that his childhood was to blame for  _ most  _ of his issues, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it. He’d finally admitted to Janine that he was fairly certain he  _ couldn’t  _ talk about it. 

Janine, however, made Julia Wicker look like a lightweight when it came to pushing, and she did it professionally. Eliot had eventually agreed to try a different therapy technique; EMDR. And though Janine had been very thorough over the weeks in explaining the process to him, it hadn’t prepared him at all. He’d laughed when she’d asked him to hold the little vibrating discs in his hands, with their current that slowly moved from left to right, making a perverted comment that had left the older woman rolling her eyes. He’d answered her questions easily enough at first; they hadn’t been difficult. But each answer Eliot had given had led to another question, leading him further and further into his own head, unearthing memories he’d buried long ago. 

Janine had made him focus on each question for long moments before he’d replied, and asking him what he felt, why he felt it, even  _ where  _ he felt it. He’d felt almost drugged during parts of the session, his eyes focused on the plush rug beneath his feet but not really seeing anything as Janine had navigated him through his own thoughts. His eyes still burned thinking of how she’d led him straight into the ugly mess hidden inside his own head, how he’d cried and hated himself and her for it.

He had to do it again next week.

It also didn’t help that it was fourteen  _ fucking  _ degrees outside and he still had three blocks until he reached his apartment, with the sidewalks far too busy to chance casting any kind of warming spell. He forced his long legs to pick up the pace, stepping around other pedestrians as he hurried home. 

Finally letting himself inside the apartment, Eliot smiled when he smelled pizza and saw Quentin’s coat laying across the back of one of his newly purchased leather chairs. He was slowly purging the stark black and white lines of his living space with something more inviting and warm. 

He looked around but didn’t see Quentin until the bedroom door opened slightly, and his brow arched when he saw his boyfriend peek out at him, looking guilty as sin. “Hey.”

“Um, hey?” Eliot stepped further into the room, giving Quentin a discerning look when he remained where he was. “Are you going to come tell me hi?”

“Um, yeah?”

“Q, what are you doing in there?” Eliot’s eyes danced. “Is it sexy?”

“Um.”

Eliot’s attention was diverted when something moved near Quentin’s foot and his boyfriend cursed as a small black shadow darted out of the bedroom. Eliot yelped, backing away towards the door until he saw it was a cat. What the fuck?

“Quentin, why is there a cat?” he asked, watching the small feline cross the floor towards him. It was ragged looking and skinny, its coat so black it was like looking at a void.

Quentin sighed, stepping out of the bedroom. “I couldn’t leave her.”

“Leave her where?” 

“There was a lady near the bodega giving away kittens? And when I asked about her, she said she was just going to take her to the pound once her babies were gone.”

“Babies?” Eliot echoed, looking warily at the cat as it approached his foot. “Are you sure?” The thing was so small, it was hard to imagine it had birthed kittens. It wasn’t much bigger than a kitten itself. 

“Yeah, she still had one when I offered to take her.”

Eliot held his breath as the cat rubbed against his ankle, then began batting at the laces of his favorite oxfords. “Oh, no you do not,” he muttered, pulling his foot away. 

The thing looked up at him with bright orange eyes, hissing. 

Eliot hissed back. 

The cat rolled onto its back and pawed the air as it yawned, seemingly satisfied with the exchange. 

Eliot looked to Quentin. “Are you… you want to keep it?”

Quentin definitely had his best “I want something” face on; it was a really good one. Eliot felt he should applaud. “She could get euthanized if I take her somewhere, El. A-And my dad’s allergic; I never got to have a pet.”

Eliot did feel bad for that. Most of his childhood pets hadn’t exactly been conventional, but he’d had a few dogs along with the goats, pigs, and chickens. But they’d also had the pigs and chickens slaughtered, so… Okay, not the point.

“Um. I didn’t  _ exactly  _ go over the pet restrictions when I signed the lease here, Q.”

“I called!” he said brightly. “I’ll pay the deposit, it’s a one time fee.”

“Okay… What if she’s sick, though?”

“I already made an appointment to have her checked out and spayed.”

“Food?”

“Cabinet.”

Eliot wrinkled his nose. “Litter box?”

“Bathroom. You never have to touch it, I promise.”

He sighed. Obviously, his boyfriend was already attached to the mangy little thing and had fully prepared his argument in advance. “Fuck. I mean, okay. I guess we have a cat?”

“Really?”

Quentin looked so overjoyed that it nearly melted Eliot into a puddle but he tried to look annoyed anyway as Quentin ran over to kiss him before picking the cat up in his arms. It laid on its back like an infant, blinking coolly at Eliot.  _ Yeah, you win, bitch,  _ he thought. 

“So, have you already named it, too?” Eliot asked as he walked towards the bedroom to remove his work clothes. Stepping inside, however, he was surprised to see the space had changed quite a bit since he’d left. 

There was a three tiered tower, covered in beige carpet blocking the view of the window. Tiny mice in unnatural colors littered the floor, along with plastic balls filled with bells and little plush fish. 

And then…

Eliot turned to look at Quentin. “You bought it a harness?” __

“It was cute, okay? I know it probably won’t, like, be a thing. And it’s a ‘her.’”

“Don’t assume your cat’s gender, Quentin.”

He snorted. “No, I haven’t named her. All I could think of was Salem because we’ve been watching so much Sabrina.”

Eliot’s eyes narrowed as he shrugged off his coat. “Hm, I agree, that would be unoriginal.” His eyes widened excitedly. “Oh my God, can we name her Prudence?”

Quentin grinned. “Totally, that’s perfect.” Prudence began to struggle in his arms, and he let her jump to the floor, where she began attacking one of the fish, her paw batting at it erratically. 

After Eliot had changed into something more comfortable, they ate the pizza Quentin had picked up and discussed their day with one another while the cat darted back and forth through the apartment, occasionally running across Eliot’s lap or launching herself from Quentin’s shoulder. 

“Jesus, she needs meds,” Eliot laughed.

“I, uh, think some of those toys might have catnip in them. I’ll check.”

Prudence did seem to calm a bit after Quentin removed the toys from the floor to hide them in a dresser drawer, and when they settled into bed later that night, Quentin with a book and Eliot on his laptop, Eliot realized he hadn’t seen or heard from her for nearly an hour. 

He was struggling to absorb the online tutorial for the new software he needed to learn for the project Wicke had pulled him in to assist with when Prudence jumped up onto the bed, immediately starting to rub her face aggressively against the corner of his computer screen. “No,” he told her.

That did nothing, and after several more attempts, Eliot pushed at her nose. “No, cat.” Quentin only chuckled, offering no assistance at all.

The third time Eliot pushed at Prudence’s nose, she wrapped her little claws around his finger and sank her teeth in, causing him to hiss and jerk his hand away. “Little bitch,” he complained, shaking the wounded digit. 

Prudence butted her head against his leg in response, then climbed her way onto his chest, purring loudly as she turned in a circle and settled under his chin. 

Eliot sighed. “Q, your cat.”

Quentin looked up at the display with a smile. “I’m not actually sure that’s my cat. Sorry, El.”

Eliot glared at him before turning his attention back to his tutorial, and when Prudence stretched her paws out, falling slack against him moments later, he absolutely refused to smile. 

  
  



End file.
